Генрик Сенкевич
The Deluge. Vol. 2
CHAPTER XLVII
Two weeks later it was boiling in all Taurogi. On a certain evening disorderly parties of Boguslav's troops came in, – thirty or forty horsemen in a body, reduced, torn, more like spectres than men, – and brought news of the defeat of Boguslav at Yanov. Everything had been lost, – arms, horses, cannon, the camp. Six thousand choice men went out on that expedition with the prince; barely four hundred returned, – these the prince himself led out of the ruin.
Of the Poles no living soul came back save Sakovich; for all who had not fallen in battle, all whom the terrible Babinich had not destroyed in his attacks, went over to Sapyeha. Many foreign officers chose of their own will to stand at the chariot of the conqueror. In one word, no Radzivill had ever yet returned from an expedition more crushed, ruined, and beaten.
And as formerly court adulation knew no bounds in exalting Boguslav as a leader, so now all mouths sounded loudly an unceasing complaint against the incompetent management of the war. Among the remaining soldiers there was endless indignation, which in the last days of the retreat brought complete disorder, and rose to that degree that the prince considered it wiser to remain somewhat in the rear.
The prince and Sakovich halted in Rossyeni. Kettling, hearing of this from soldiers, went immediately with the news to Olenka.
"The main thing," said she, when the news came, "is whether Sapyeha and that Babinich are pursuing the prince, and whether they intend to bring the war to this region."
"I could learn nothing from the statements of the soldiers," answered Kettling, "for fear exaggerates every danger. Some say even that Babinich is here; but since the prince and Sakovich have remained behind, I infer that the pursuit cannot be rapid."
"Still it must come, for it is difficult to think otherwise. Who after victory would not pursue the defeated enemy?"
"That will be shown. I wished to speak of something else. The prince by reason of illness and defeat must be irritated, therefore inclined to deeds of violence. Do not separate now from your aunt and Panna Borzobogati. Do not consent to the journey of your uncle to Tyltsa, as the last time, before the campaign."
Olenka said nothing. Her uncle had, in fact, not been sent to Tyltsa; he had merely been ill for some days after the hammer-stroke given by Prince Boguslav. Sakovich, to hide the prince's deed from the people, spread the report that the old man had gone to Tyltsa. Olenka preferred to be silent on this before Kettling, for the proud maiden was ashamed to confess that any man living had struck a Billevich.
"I thank you for the warning," said she, after a moment's silence.
"I considered it my duty."
But her heart swelled with bitterness; for not long before Kettling might have enabled her to avoid this new danger. If he had consented to the flight, she would have been far away, free of Boguslav forever.
"It is really fortunate for me," said she, "that this warning does not touch your honor, that the prince has not issued an order for you not to warn me."
Kettling understood the reproach, and uttered a speech which Olenka did not expect of him: —
"As to what touches my military service, to guard which my honor commands, I will accomplish that or forfeit my life. Other choice I have not, and do not wish to have. Outside my service I am free to provide against lawlessness. Therefore, as a private man, I leave with you this pistol, and I say, Defend yourself, for danger is near; in case of need, kill! Then my oath will be at an end, and I will hasten to save you."
He bowed and turned toward the door, but Olenka detained him.
"Cavalier, free yourself from that service! Defend a good cause; defend the injured, for you are worthy to do so; you are honorable. It is a pity that you should be lost on a traitor!"
"I should have freed myself long since, and resigned," said Kettling, "had I not thought that by remaining I might serve you. Now it is too late. If the prince had returned victorious, I should not have hesitated a moment; but when he is coming back conquered, – when, perhaps, the enemy is pursuing him, – it would be cowardice to ask for dismissal before the end of the term itself will free me. You will see sufficiently how people of small heart desert in crowds a defeated man. This pistol will send a ball even through armor with ease."
Kettling went out, leaving on the table the weapon, which Olenka secreted at once. Fortunately the previsions of the young officer and her own fear proved groundless.
The prince arrived in the evening with Sakovich and Patterson, but so crushed and ill that he was barely able to hold himself on his feet. Besides, he did not know well whether Sapyeha was advancing or had sent Babinich in pursuit with the light squadrons. Boguslav had overthrown, it is true, the latter in his attack, together with his horse; but he dared not hope that he had killed him, since it seemed to him that the double-handed sword had turned in the blow on Babinich's helmet. Besides, he had fired before from a pistol straight into his face, and that had not taken effect.
The prince's heart was aching at the thought of what such a Babinich would do with his estates should he reach them with his Tartars, – and he had nothing with which to defend them; and not only his estates, but his own person. Among his hirelings there were not many like Kettling, and it was just to suppose that at the first news of the coming of Sapyeha's troops they would desert him to a man.
The prince did not purpose to remain in Taurogi longer than two or three days, for he had to hasten to Royal Prussia to the elector and Steinbock, who might furnish him with new forces, and employ him either in capturing Prussian towns, or send him to aid the king himself, who intended an expedition to the heart of the Commonwealth.
In Taurogi he had to leave some one of the officers to bring order into the remnant of the army, ward off patriot peasants and nobles, defend the property of the two Radzivills, and continue the understanding with Löwenhaupt, commander-in-chief of the Swedes in Jmud.
With this object, after he had come to Taurogi, and after a night's rest, the prince summoned to council Sakovich, the only man whom he could trust, and to whom alone he could open his heart.
That first "good day" in Taurogi was wonderful, when the two friends saw each other after the ill-starred campaign. For some time they gazed on each other without a word. The prince broke the silence first, —
"Well, the devils! they carried the day."
"They carried the day!" repeated Sakovich.
"It must have been so with such weather. If I had had more light squadrons, or if some devil had not brought that Babinich, – twice the same man! The gallow's bird changed his name. Do not tell any one of him, so as not to increase his glory."
"I will not tell. But will not the officers trumpet it, for you presented him before your boots as Banneret of Orsha?"
"The German officers know nothing of Polish names. It is all one to them, – Kmita or Babinich. But by the horns of Lucifer, if I could get him! I had him; and the scoundrel brought my men into rebellion, besides leading off Glovbich's troops. He must be some bastard of our blood; it cannot be otherwise! I had him, and he escaped, – that gnaws me more than the whole lost campaign."
"You had him, Prince, but at the price of my head."
"I tell you sincerely that I would let them flay you, if I might make a drum out of Kmita's skin!"
"Thank you, Bogus; I could not expect less from your friendship."
The prince laughed: "But you would have squirmed on Sapyeha's gridiron. All your scoundrelism would have been fried out of you. I should have been glad to see that!"
"I should be glad to see you in the hands of Kmita, your dear relative. You have a different face, but in form you are like each other, and you have feet of the same size; you are sighing for the same maiden, only she without experience divines that he is stronger, and that he is a better soldier."
"I could manage two such as you, and I rode over his breast. If I had had two minutes' time, I should be able to give you my word now that my cousin is not living. You have always been rather dull, hence I took a fancy to you; but in these recent days your wit has left you completely."
"You have always had your wit in your heels, and therefore you swept away in such fashion before Sapyeha that I have lost all fancy for you, and am ready myself to go to Sapyeha."
"On a rope?"
"On that with which they will bind Radzivill."
"Enough!"
"At the service of your highness!"
"It would be well to shoot some of the noisiest of those horsemen, and introduce order."
"I commanded this morning to hang six of them. They are cold now, and are dancing stubbornly on the ropes, for the wind is fierce."
"You have done well. But listen! Do you wish to remain in the garrison at Taurogi, for I must leave some one here?"
"I do, and I ask for that office. No one can manage better. The soldiers fear me more than others, for they know that with me there is no trifling. With respect to Löwenhaupt, it is necessary that some one be here more important than Patterson."
"Can you manage the rebels?"
"I assure your highness that the pine-trees of Jmud will bear weightier fruit than the cones of last year. I will form about two regiments of infantry out of the peasants, and train them in my fashion. I will have my eyes on the estates; and if the rebels attack one of them, I will throw suspicion immediately on some rich noble and squeeze him like cheese in a bag. At first I shall need merely money to pay wages and equip the infantry."
"I will leave what I can."
"From the dowry money?"
"How is that?"
"That means from the Billevich money which you took out of the dowry for yourself in advance."
"If you could only twist the neck of old Billevich in some polite way, it would be well; for it could be done easily, and he has my letter."
"I will try. But the point is in this, – has he not sent the note somewhere, or has the maiden not sewed it into her shift? Would you not like to discover?"
"It will come to that; but now I must go, and besides that cursed fever has taken all my strength."
"Your highness, envy me for staying in Taurogi."
"You have a strange kind of wish; but if you meanwhile – I should have you torn apart with hooks. Why do you insist on this office?"
"For I want to marry."
"Whom?" asked the prince, sitting up in bed. "Panna Borzobogati."
"That is a good idea, an excellent idea!" said Boguslav. "I have heard of some will."
"There is a will from Pan Longin Podbipienta. Your highness knows what a powerful family that is, and the estates of Pan Longin are in a number of districts. It is true that the Moscow troops have occupied some; there will be lawsuits, fights, disputes, and attacks without number; but I will help myself, and will not yield one point to any man. Besides, the girl has pleased me greatly; she is pretty and enticing. I noticed in a moment when we captured her that she feigned terror, and shot at me with her eyes at the same time. Only let me stay here as commandant, and from idleness alone the love-making will begin."
"One thing I tell you. I will not forbid you to marry; but listen well, – no excesses, you understand? That maiden is from the Vishnyevetskis; she is a confidant of Princess Griselda herself; and because of my esteem for the princess, I do not wish to offend her, nor do I wish to offend Pan Zamoyski."
"There is no need of warning," answered Sakovich; "for since I wish to marry regularly, I must make regular approaches."
"I wish you might get a refusal."
" – I know a man who got a refusal, though he is a prince; but I think that that will not come to me. That eye-cutting gives me great consolation."
"Don't tell that man who got a refusal not to give you horns! I will give an addition to your shield, or you will receive a surname, Sakovich Rogaty.9 She is Borzobogaty, and he is Bardzorogaty. You will be a chosen pair. But marry, yes, marry, and let me know of the wedding. I will be your best man."
Fierce anger appeared on Sakovich's face, terrible without that. His eyes were covered for a moment as if by smoke; but he soon recovered, and turning the prince's words into a jest, he said, —
"Poor man! you are not able to go downstairs alone, and you make threats. You have your Panna Billevich here; go your way, skeleton! go your way! You'll nurse Babinich's children yet!"
"God break your tongue, such a son! You are making sport of the sickness which came within a hair of killing me. I would you were enchanted as I was."
"What enchantments are there here? At times, when I see how everything goes in the natural world, I think enchantment is stupid."
"You are stupid yourself! Be silent! do not summon the Devil. You disgust me more and more."
"Would that I were not the last Pole who has remained faithful to your highness! For my loyalty you feed me with ingratitude. I will return to my dens at home, and sit quietly awaiting the end of the war."
"Oh, give us peace! You know that I love you."
"It is grievous for me to see that. The Devil thrust this love for your highness on me. If there is enchantment in anything, it is in that."
The starosta told the truth; for he loved Boguslav really. The prince knew this, and therefore paid him, if not with strong attachment, with gratitude, which vain people ever have for those who do them homage. Therefore Boguslav agreed willingly to Sakovich's plans touching Anusia, and determined to aid him in person. In view of this, about midday, when he felt better, he had himself dressed and went to Anusia.
"I have come because of old acquaintance," said he, "to inquire after your health and ask if the visit to Taurogi has pleased you."
"In captivity one must be pleased with all things," answered Anusia, sighing.
The prince laughed. "You are not in captivity. You were taken together with Sapyeha's soldiers, that is true; and I gave orders to send you here, but only for safety. Not a hair will fall from your head. Be convinced that there are few people whom I respect as I do Princess Griselda, to whose heart you are near; and the Vishnyevetskis and Zamoyskis are connections of mine. You will find here every freedom and every care. I come to you as a well-wishing friend, and I say if you wish to go I will give you an escort, though I have few soldiers myself. I advise you to stay. You, as I have heard, were sent here to seek property willed to you. Be assured that this is not the time to think of such business; and even in time of peace the aid of Sapyeha would not avail in these regions, for he could act only in Vityebsk; here he can do nothing. I shall not touch that affair personally, but through an agent. You need a friendly man, and adroit, esteemed, and feared. If such a man were to take up this matter, surely he would not let people thrust straw instead of grain into his hand."
"Where shall I, an orphan, find such a protector?" asked Anusia.
"Precisely in Taurogi."
"Your highness would be pleased yourself – "
Here Anusia put her hands together, and looked so prettily into Boguslav's eyes that if the prince had not been wearied and broken, he would surely have begun to think less sincerely of Sakovich's cause; but since he had no gallantry in his head at that moment, he said quickly, —
"Could I do it myself, I should not intrust such a pleasant office to any man; but I am going away, for I must go. I leave in my place, as commandant of Taurogi, the starosta of Oshmiana, Pan Sakovich, a great cavalier, a famous soldier, and a man so adroit that there is not another such in all Lithuania. So I repeat: Stay in Taurogi, for you have no place to go to, since every point is full of ravagers and ruffians, while rebels infest all the roads. Sakovich will protect you here; Sakovich will defend you. Sakovich will see what can be done to obtain those estates; and once he undertakes the affair, I guarantee that no man on earth could bring it to a favorable issue sooner. He is my friend, therefore I know him, and I will say only this: if I had taken those estates from you, and afterward learned that Sakovich was coming to oppose me, I would give them up of my own will, for it is dangerous to struggle with him."
"If Pan Sakovich would be ready to come to the aid of an orphan – "
"Only be not unjust to him, and he will do anything for you, for your beauty has touched his heart deeply. He is going around sighing now – "
"How could I touch the heart of any man?"
"She is a rascal, the maiden!" thought the prince. But he added aloud: "Let Sakovich explain how that happened. Only do him no wrong; for he is a worthy man and of a noted family, therefore I do not wish that disdain should be shown such a person."
CHAPTER XLVIII
Next morning the prince received a summons from the elector to go with all speed to Konigsberg to take command of the newly levied troops which were to march to Marienburg or Dantzig. The letter contained also news of the daring campaign of Karl Gustav through the whole length of the Commonwealth to Russian regions. The elector foresaw a disastrous end to the campaign; but just for that reason he desired to be at the head of as many troops as possible, that he might in case of need be indispensable to one side or the other, sell himself dearly, and decide the fate of the war. For those reasons he enjoined on the young prince all possible haste, so greatly was he concerned about avoiding delay; but after the first courier he sent a second, who arrived twelve hours later.
The prince, therefore, had not a moment to lose, and not time enough to rest, for the fever returned with its previous violence. Still he had to go. So when he had delegated his authority to Sakovich, he said, —
"Perhaps we shall have to transport Billevich and the maiden to Königsberg. There it will be easier in quiet to handle a hostile man firmly; but the girl I will take to the camp, for I have had enough of these ceremonies."
"It is well, and the cavalry may be increased," answered Sakovich at parting.
An hour later the prince was no longer in Taurogi. Sakovich remained, an unlimited despot, recognizing no power above himself but that of Anusia. And he began to blow away the dust from before her feet, as on a time the prince had before the feet of Olenka. Restraining his wild nature, he was courteous, anticipating her wishes, divining her thoughts, and at the same time he held himself at a distance, with all the respect which a polished cavalier should have toward a lady for whose hand and heart he is striving.
It must be confessed that this reigning in Taurogi pleased Anusia; it was grateful to her to think that when evening came, in the lower halls, in the corridors, in the barracks, in the garden still covered with winter frost, the sighs of old and young officers were heard; that the astrologer was sighing while looking at the stars from his tower; that even old Billevich interrupted his evening rosary with sighs.
While the best of maidens, she was still glad that those swift affections went not to Olenka, but to her. She was glad also with respect to Babinich; for she felt her power, and it came to her head that if no man had resisted her anywhere, she must have burned on his heart also permanent marks with her eyes.
"He will forget that woman, it cannot be otherwise, for she feeds him with ingratitude; and when he forgets her he knows where to seek me, – and he will seek me, the robber!"
Then she threatened him in her soul: "Wait! I will pay you before I console you."
Meanwhile, though not in real truth caring much for Sakovich, she saw him with pleasure. It is true that he justified himself in her eyes from reproaches of treason in the same way in which Boguslav had explained himself to the sword-bearer. He said, therefore, that peace was already concluded with the Swedes; that the Commonwealth might recover and flourish, had not Pan Sapyeha ruined everything for his own private ends.
Anusia, not knowing over-much of these matters, let the words pass her ears; but she was struck by something else in Sakovich's narrative.
"The Billeviches," said he, "scream in heaven-piercing voices of injustice and captivity; but nothing has happened to them here, and nothing will happen. The prince has not let them go from Taurogi, it is true; but that is for their good, for three furlongs beyond the gate they would perish from ravagers or forest bandits. He has not let them go also, because he loves Panna Billevich, and that also is true. But who will not justify him? Who would act otherwise, who had a feeling heart and a breast burdened with sighs? If he had had less honorable intentions, being such a powerful man, he might have given rein to himself; but he wanted to marry her, he wanted to elevate that stubborn lady to his princely estate, to cover her with happiness, place the coronet of the Radzivills on her head; and these thankless people are hurling invectives at him, thus trying to diminish his honor and fame."
Anusia, not believing this greatly, asked Olenka that same day if the prince wished to marry her. Olenka could not deny; and because they had become intimate, she explained her reasons for refusal. They seemed just and sufficient to Anusia; but still she thought to herself that it was not so grievous for the Billeviches in Taurogi, and that the prince and Sakovich were not such criminals as Pan Tomash had proclaimed.
Then, also, came news that Sapyeha and Babinich were not only not approaching Taurogi, but had gone with forced marches against the King of Sweden, faraway toward Lvoff. Anusia fell into a rage at first, and then began to understand that if the hetman and Babinich had gone, there was no reason to flee from Taurogi, for they might lose their lives, or in the most favorable event change a quiet existence into a captivity full of dangers.
For this reason it came to disputes between her on one side, and Olenka and Billevich on the other; but even they were forced to admit that the departure of Sapyeha rendered their flight very difficult, if not quite impossible, especially since the country was growing more and more excited, and no inhabitant could be certain of the morrow. Finally, even should they not accept Anusia's reason, flight without her aid was impossible, in view of the watchfulness of Sakovich and the other officers. Kettling alone was devoted to them, but he would not let himself be involved in any plot against his service; besides, he was absent often, for Sakovich was glad to employ him against armed bands of confederates and ravagers, since he was an experienced soldier and a good officer, therefore he sent him frequently from Taurogi.
But it was pleasanter and pleasanter for Anusia. Sakovich made a declaration to her a month after the departure of the prince; but, the deceiver! she answered cunningly that she did not know him, that men spoke variously concerning him, that she had not time yet to love, that without permission of Princess Griselda she could not marry, and finally, that she wished to subject him to a year's trial.
The starosta gnawed his anger, gave orders that day to give three thousand stripes to a cavalry soldier for a trifling offence, – after this the poor soldier was buried; but the starosta had to agree to Anusia's conditions. She told the lordling that if he would serve still more faithfully, diligently, and obediently, in a year he would receive whatever love she had.
In this way she played with the bear; and she so succeeded in mastering him that he stifled even his growling. He merely said, —
"With the exception of treason to the prince, ask anything of me, even ask me to walk on my knees."
If Anusia had seen what terrible results of Sakovich's impatience were falling on the whole neighborhood, she would not have teased him so greatly. Soldiers and residents in Taurogi trembled before him, for he punished grievously and altogether without cause, punished beyond every measure. Prisoners died in chains from hunger, or were burned with hot iron.
More than once it seemed that the wild starosta wished to cool in the blood of men his spirit, at once raging and burning with love, for he started up suddenly and went on an expedition. Victory followed him nearly everywhere. He cut to pieces parties of rebels, and ordered, as an example, that the right hands be cut from captured peasants, who were then sent home free.
The terror of his name girded Taurogi as with a wall; even the most considerable bodies of patriots did not dare to go beyond Rossyeni. Peace was established in all parts, and he formed new regiments of German vagrants and the local peasants with the money extorted from neighboring citizens and nobles, and increased in power so as to furnish men to the prince in case of urgent necessity.
A more loyal and terrible servant Boguslav could not have found.
But Sakovich gazed more and more tenderly at Anusia with his terrible, pale-blue eyes, and played to her on a lute. Life, therefore, in Taurogi passed for Anusia joyously and with amusement; for Olenka it was sore and monotonous. From one there went gleams of gladness, like that light which issues at night from the firefly; the face of the other grew paler and paler, more serious, sterner; her dark brows were contracted more resolutely on her white forehead, so that finally they called her a nun. And she had something in her of the nun; she began to accept the thought that she would become one, – that God himself would through suffering and disappointment lead her to peace behind the grating. She was no longer that maiden with beautiful bloom on her face and happiness in her eyes; not that Olenka who on a time while riding in a sleigh with her betrothed, Andrei Kmita, cried, "Hei! hei!" to the pine woods and forests.
Spring appeared in the world. A wind strong and warm shook the waters of the Baltic, now liberated from ice; later on, trees bloomed, flowers shot out from their harsh leafy enclosures; then the sun grew hot, and the poor girl was waiting in vain for the end of Taurogi captivity, – for Anusia did not wish to flee, and in the country it was ever more terrible.
Fire and sword were raging as though the pity of God were never to be manifest. Nay more, whoso had not seized the sabre or the lance in winter, seized it in spring; snow did not betray his tracks, the pine wood gave better concealment, and warmth made war the easier.
News flew swallow-like to Taurogi, – sometimes terrible, sometimes comforting; and to these and to those the maiden devoted her prayers, and shed tears of sorrow or joy.
Previous mention had been made of a terrible uprising of the whole people. As many as the trees in the forests of the Commonwealth, as many as the ears of grain waving on its fields, as many as the stars shining on it at night between the Carpathians and the Baltic, were the warriors who rose up against the Swedes. These men, being nobles, were born to the sword and to war by God's will and nature's order; those who cut furrows with the plough, sowed land with grain; those who were occupied with trade and handicraft in towns; those who lived in the wilderness, from bee-keeping, from pitch-making, who lived with the axe or by hunting; those who lived on the rivers and labored at fishing; those who were nomads in the steppes with their cattle, – all seized their weapons to drive out the invader.
The Swede was now drowning in that multitude as in a swollen river.
To the wonder of the whole world, the Commonwealth, powerless but a short time before, found more sabres in its defence than the Emperor of Germany or the King of France could have.
Then came news of Karl Gustav, – how he was marching ever deeper into the Commonwealth, his feet in blood, his head in smoke and flames, his lips blaspheming. It was hoped any moment to hear of his death and the destruction of all the Swedish armies.
The name of Charnyetski was heard with increasing force from boundary to boundary, transfixing the enemy with terror, pouring consolation into the hearts of the Poles.
"He routed them at Kozyenitsi!" was said one day. "He routed them at Yaroslav!" was repeated a few weeks later; a distant echo repeated: "He has beaten them at Sandomir!" The only wonder was where so many Swedes could still come from after so many defeats.
Finally a new flock of swallows flew in, and with them the report of the imprisonment of the king and the whole Swedish army in the fork of the rivers. It seemed that the end was right there. Sakovich stopped his expeditions; he merely wrote letters at night and sent them in various directions.
Billevich seemed bewildered. He rushed in every evening with news to Olenka. Sometimes he gnawed his hands, when he remembered that he had to sit in Taurogi. The old soldier soul was yearning for the field. At last he began to shut himself up in his room, and to ponder over something for hours at a time. Once he seized Olenka in his arms, burst out into great weeping, and said, – "You are a dear girl, my only daughter, but the country is dearer." And next day he vanished, as if he had fallen through the earth. Olenka found merely a letter, and in it the following words: —
"God bless thee, beloved child! I understood well that they are guarding thee and not me, and that it would be easier for me to escape alone. Let God judge me, thou poor orphan, if I did this from hardness of heart and lack of fatherly love for thee. But the torment surpassed my endurance. I swear, by Christ's wounds, that I could endure no longer. For when I thought that the best Polish blood was flowing in a river pro patria el libertate (for the country and liberty), and in that river there was not one drop of my blood, it seemed to me that the angels of heaven were condemning me. If I had not been born in our sacred Jmud, where love of country and bravery are cherished, if I had not been born a noble, a Billevich, I should have remained with thee and guarded thee. But thou, if a man, wouldst have done as I have; therefore thou'lt forgive me for leaving thee alone, like Daniel in the lions' den, whom God in His mercy preserved; so I think that the protection of our Most Holy Lady the Queen will be better over thee than mine."